


how easy you are to need

by helloearthlings



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon Related, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Prince Merlin, Reunions, Royalty, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 04:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12697311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “Do you know where you’re leading us?” Morgana said in a low voice.“We can’t just wait it out down here. We can’t. Everyone is gone. All that’s left is the invading army and – and smoke.”“I know we can’t,” Arthur said tightly, willing his throat not to constrict painfully. He thought of what his father would do. His father, who burned. “We’re going to Aralia.”Morgana’s lips parted slightly, eyebrows creasing together, but she eventually nodded slowly. “That’s a trek. But – they are out of the sphere of influence of Agravaine and Tristan. They don’t hold a grudge against – against our father. And…”“And Merlin’s there,” Arthur felt a lump in his throat that would not go away.





	how easy you are to need

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I'm into canon era but vaguely different circumstance AUs? I mean, royal-ish Merlin AUs because apparently that's my thing now. I don't mind at all, but considering my penchant for writing in the modern era, it's a little new. I might do something entirely different and write a sci fi AU later on this week since I'm watching the Orville and having fun doing it. But anyway, hope you enjoy, and please comment if you do!

The tunnels under the mountains were the only escape route left to them.

There wouldn’t be any hope of freedom above ground; Agravaine and Tristan’s men were still patrolling, menacing, like guard dogs across the kingdom.

Across what used to be the kingdom.

What used to be Camelot, but no longer was.

Arthur couldn’t think about that, couldn’t think about anything that remotely pushed against it, or the tears in his eyes would start stinging again and he would lose control. He couldn’t do that now, while they were still in such dire straits.

He may have failed his people, but there was still a handful left that he could protect.

Arthur chanced a glance back in them, their faces illuminated in nothing but the torchlight that he carried as he led them through the tunnels, willing their survival on the other side.

There was Gaius, the court physician, whom he’d known since he was a child. Tom, the blacksmith, and his daughter Gwen, Morgana’s maidservant. Gilly, a stable hand. Eaton and Myra, a couple from the lower town.

His sister, Morgana, held the other torchlight from her place next to him, leading the what was left of their people forward.

Everyone else already burned. Was burning. Would burn.

Arthur didn’t think he could ever forget it.

“Do you know where you’re leading us?” Morgana said in a low voice, presumably so the others could not hear. They had to put on a face of confidence, after all. “We can’t just wait it out down here. We can’t. Everyone is gone. All that’s left is the invading army and – and smoke.”

“I know we can’t,” Arthur said tightly, willing his throat not to constrict painfully. He thought of what his father would do. His father, who burned. “We’re going to Aralia.”

Morgana’s lips parted slightly, eyebrows creasing together, but she eventually nodded slowly. “That’s a trek. But – they are out of the sphere of influence of Agravaine and Tristan. They don’t hold a grudge against – against our father. And…”

“And Merlin’s there,” Arthur felt a lump in his throat that would not go away. “He’ll…he’ll…be the most sympathetic to our cause,” he added lamely. “He lived in Camelot. He knew Camelot. He’ll convince his father the king to take us in. I’d say take the kingdom back, but I don’t think that’s possible.”

“He will also,” Morgana said, studying Arthur’s features in the way she always did, the way that made Arthur think she could see right through him and into his very core, “give you a great deal of comfort.”

“He’s my friend,” Arthur said, clearing his throat after a moment’s pause. “I will be glad to see a friendly face.”

Morgana looked like she wanted to push him further, but her eyes relented as she asked, much more detachedly, “Do you know the way to Aralia?”

“Merlin explained it to me once,” Arthur said, a fleeting smile hiding somewhere in his lips, “before he was sent back. We were going to use it to visit each other.”

“Did you ever?” Morgana said softly, affectionately. She had loved Merlin, too, for all the years he spent in Camelot. Arthur remembered being thirteen and hearing his father tell him that another prince would be coming to stay at the castle for a time, be Uther’s ward, and he and Arthur would build an alliance for the future. Third son of the king of Aralia, Uther said, was not the most ideal partnership, but Aralia had many mines full of many gems that Arthur might need someday.

Uther hadn’t banked on how attached Arthur would grow to him. He was jealous at first, of course. He’d always been the only prince at the castle. But Merlin had a funny way of working his way into people’s lives, people’s hearts, people’s souls. He’d gone back to Aralia at eighteen. Arthur cried for a week, even though he hadn’t cried once since he was nine.

“No,” Arthur said softly. It had been two years since he’d seen Merlin. Arthur promised to visit, Merlin promised to come back, but it had never happened. “I’ve been down here, thinking about it, walking toward him. But no. After a while, it just felt like it was too late. Like I’d missed the right moment.”

“I guess this is the right moment,” Morgana said, and shuddered. Arthur thought about holding his arm out to support her, but thought better of it.

“Did you say Merlin’s name?” Gaius’s parched voice croaked from behind them, and Arthur turned to see the old man’s smile illuminate the darkness.

“I always liked that boy,” Gaius said thoughtfully after a moment. “Minded his manners. Very interested in herbal remedies. Always had a kind word.”

“I loved him,” Gwen piped up from where her father had an arm around her, shielding her from harm. “He was never ostentatious .Never acted like a prince. No offense, Arthur,” she blushed guiltily as she looked at her feet, but Tom and Morgana laughed, and so did Arthur.

“Uther’s ward?” Gilly interrupted, cocking his head in remembrance. “He would help me with my chores. He’d do anything for anybody.”

“I thought it was a shame he was third in line,” Morgana said, matter of fact. “He would be a good king.”

“He didn’t want to be a king,” Arthur said softly, thinking of memories he’d locked away long ago. “He wanted to be a hermit.”

“What?” Gwen giggled, and even Morgana looked a little surprised.

“He wanted to sit in his hut in the woods in the middle of nature and practice magic all day long,” Arthur wasn’t sure if he was on the verge of laughter or tears. “Get his own food – fish from the stream, berries from the woods – and not depend on anyone for anything.”

They all laughed a little, and the conversation faded into something else, about how King Balinor was known as a fair man, a just man, and had magic on his side, so he could always protect them from danger. Merlin had always been very ambivalent about his father; he loved him, but never understood him, is what Merlin would say. It’s what Arthur said about his father, too.

Arthur wouldn’t talk about his father like that anymore. His father was gone.

“Were you going to go with him?” Morgana said quietly as Arthur pushed onwards. “To his cabin in the woods?”

“It was a fantasy,” Arthur said tightly after a moment. “A children’s game, that’s all. We never even…never even went to see each other afterwards. Couldn’t even sneak away just for a visit. We never would’ve been able to…to leave our kingdoms, our people, our…”

He thought of how his people burned. How they were gone.

“You wanted to, though,” Morgana said with a kind of conviction. Arthur didn’t respond.

They arrived at a fork in the tunnel. They all glanced at one another before turning carefully to Arthur. He was their leader, their prince, the only people who would ever turn to him for direction ever again.

He’d spent an entire lifetime preparing for kingship, and it had been snatched from him. Taken away.

He didn’t miss it.

It felt sickening to consider it that way, but he didn’t. He never wanted this, of course, this horrifying tragedy his life had become in a few short hours. His people who had depended on him, all withering away. His father, snatched in an instant.

But for the first time in his life, there was uncertainty. There was trepidation. There was a blank slate.

There was something about that that made Arthur’s heart clench up. It was painful, and yet it wasn’t.

He didn’t know what he was going to do. For the first time, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Left,” Arthur swallowed thickly. “We’ll turn left. Aralia is east of Camelot.”

His people followed him down the tunnel. He hoped they believed him. He hoped he was right.

Seven. He had seven people left. He saved seven. Maybe he could spend his life devoted to just those seven. He wouldn’t have to be some distant, far off, godly ruler over them. He could just protect them. Love them. Keep them close to him and fend off all dangers.

Assuming Balinor accepted their presence in Aralia, perhaps Arthur could find a place for all of them there. Or wherever they all wanted to go. Gaius was renowned throughout the kingdom for his medical skill, and there was illness everywhere. Gilly and Gwen could easily get positions in the royal household. Merlin had a sister – Gwen could be her maid. Or she could stay Morgana’s maid if Morgana decided she wanted to live in the castle.

He might not be able to find Tom his own blacksmithing work, but he could find employment for him with another blacksmith. Eaton and Myra had run an apothecary back in Camelot, surely there was a business for that in Aralia.

Morgana would adjust to the castle there in no time; Morgana could make friends with anyone. Maybe she could even worm her way into the affections of one of Merlin’s brothers, be a queen herself.

But then again, Morgana had always been destined to be married off before this, to whoever created the best alliance for Camelot. Perhaps she’d be happier to marry who she chose.

Arthur realized that he might have a choice now, too.

Yet all he could think of was what it would be like to see Merlin again. What he’d say. If he’d want revenge. If he’d care for the bedraggled remains of Arthur’s kingdom with him. If he remembered what it was like to sit in Camelot’s courtyard, on the front steps with Arthur after a long hunt, pushing and shoving each other as the knights laughed at their childish antics. Merlin always hated hunting, but he’d go just to roll his eyes at Arthur, and use little magic tricks to help the deer get away, but only if it was Arthur who was shooting at them.

Arthur closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath, before opening them and saying softly, only to Morgana “I think I know where we’re going.”

He pushed them onwards, taking them through tunnel after tunnel, praying that they could get through the mountains. If they could just get through the mountains. Just get to Aralia. Just get to Merlin. Then everything would be fine. They’d be safe.

Arthur kept this thought in his mind until he noticed a flickering of light ahead of the tunnel that did not come from his or Morgana’s torchlights.

He stopped short, holding his free hand out.

Slowly, he passed his torchlight to Gilly, who had stepped up next to him, eyes sharp, noticing too.

“I’m going to go ahead,” Arthur said softly, and with his newfound mobility, pulled his sword from its sheath from where it hung at his hip. “Don’t follow until I signal you.”

Morgana met his eyes, steely and willing, as he skirted past her and further into the tunnel. He was cast in shadow now, but could see enough from the light behind him and the light ahead that he knew what he was doing. He’d been trained for situations like this. He could fight blindfolded. Even when the other men could see, they couldn’t best him with a blindfold.

Merlin had been the only one. People used to come to see them fight each other blindfolded, cheering and whooping. It had always been a tossup who would win. Merlin had his magic, of course, finely attuned to nature, but Arthur and his sword were practically one fluent being.

No one really challenged him since Merlin left. He had deflated. No one rose to his level, not in swordplay, not in verbal sparring, not in how they made Arthur’s heart thump in his chest.

Maybe that’s why he’d never gone to see Merlin. Maybe he’d known that what he felt for him was too –

Arthur heard a noise, and flattened himself along the edge of the tunnel as it curved. The light grew brighter by the moment. Someone was moving. Moving quickly.

Footsteps. One pair. Arthur could take one man. That would be easy.

It couldn’t be one of Agravaine or Tristan’s men, not unless they had run from the action and disobeyed orders. If one was down here, there would be a gaggle of soldiers. But maybe this was a scout. Maybe he had been sent out ahead of the rest. Maybe –

The footsteps and light matched up precisely with the edge of the curve of the tunnel – two seconds away – Arthur jolted outward, seeing nothing but the red of torchlight, and said “Do not move another step.”

The red glow dissipated when the face behind the torchlight was illuminated and the figure said, in a heavy and shuddering breath, _“Arthur_.”

“M – Merlin?” Arthur stared, not knowing whether he could believe it was true or if he was dreaming. But the face lit up with inconceivable joy, and Arthur knew it was him. The same high cheekbones, pale skin, narrow blue eyes, dark hair a messy crow’s nest, smile incandescent even in the darkness.

“You’re alive,” Merlin gaped at him with the largest, whitest smile Arthur had ever seen. “I’ve been looking for hours. Ever since I heard. I knew Uther was gone, but I didn’t know if you…I thought if you did, you might use the tunnels. I might have found you faster, but….I’d forgotten the way back to Camelot.”

“I was coming to find you,” Arthur said thickly, the reality of this not quite setting in. He couldn’t help, however, but to stumble forward blindly and wrap his arms around Merlin’s shoulders, shuddering as he felt warmth and realized Merlin was really, truly _there._

Merlin had a tight arm around him, the other shaking as it held up the torchlight. Arthur pressed his forehead into Merlin’s shoulder.

“I missed you,” Arthur didn’t know what else he could possibly say, so he said it again “I missed you.”

“Me too,” Merlin whispered. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. About your father. Camelot. Everything. Is there anyone –”

“I came ahead,” Arthur said brokenly. “They’re – they’re behind. Morgana. Morgan and six others. Gwen. Gaius. I – they’re all that’s left. Everything burned. Everything. The castle’s gone. They didn’t even try to keep it for themselves, just burnt it to a crisp. Morgana and I – we tried to get everyone we could, but it was too late. We had to run. She made me – made me go. I think I would’ve killed myself if I stayed. Trying – trying to get to Aralia. You. I forgot the way. I wish I’d come sooner. If I’d come sooner, I would’ve remembered. I missed you.”

“I thought about coming, thought about it every day,” Merlin’s hand was on Arthur’s spine, shaking just slightly. “I just thought – you were the crown prince. I wasn’t. You had responsibilities. Things I couldn’t understand. I talked myself out of it. God, I wish I hadn’t. It’s all gone now. I’ll never get to – I thought you might’ve been gone. That I’d never get to say goodbye –”

Arthur felt wetness against his cheek when Merlin brushed up against him, and he realized he was crying. It made the tears Arthur had been holding off for so long start to form again, and for once, he let them fall.

“Everyone’s gone,” Arthur couldn’t stop shaking. “Everyone but us. There’s no Camelot to go back for, to save, to revenge. It’s all gone.”

“We can get revenge, if you want,” Merlin said quickly, the anger in his voice surprising. “Or we can forget it, let it go. You can stay in Aralia. We can go – go somewhere else. Anywhere else. With Morgana, with the rest of your party. Anywhere. I’ll go with you. You’re more important than anything. I’ll follow you – anywhere, Arthur, anywhere you want to go. I can’t make the mistake again – the mistake of leaving you. I missed you. Missed you _so much.”_

“We,” Arthur cleared his throat, pulling away, the intimacy overwhelming him as much as he needed it. It was still there, though, in Merlin’s flushed face, tearstained eyes, and knew it was reflected in his own face, “should get the others. They need – food. Water. We’ve been in the tunnels since yesterday. They need – need the protection of King Balinor.”

“I can get them that,” Merlin promised, eyes earnest. “Anything. Anything, I can convince my father, my brothers, to give you anything you need. If nothing else, my father owes a debt to yours for taking me in for all of those years, a debt that’s gone unpaid now that he’s – he’s gone. I’m so sorry he’s gone, Arthur.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Arthur heard the words out loud and realized for the first time that he believed them. “I have Morgana. Gwen and Tom. Gaius, Gilly, Eaton and Myra. And you. If I have you…”

“You will always have me,” Merlin pressed their foreheads together, and Arthur wasn’t sure how it happened, or who started it, or if he blacked out during it, but their lips pressed together just for an instant.

“You’re not alone,” Merlin said breathlessly as he pulled away.

Arthur, equally breathless, replied with what had been true for nearly his entire life. “I felt alone all my life until I met you. When you beat me on the training grounds when we were thirteen. No one had ever beaten me before.”

“Had to establish myself as the son of an enemy king or the knights would’ve eaten me alive,” Merlin laughed, his eyes bright. “And I had to take you down a peg. The arrogant prat you were. Are. Probably still are.”

“Still am,” Arthur couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sure you’re still a nature-loving idiot who only cares about magic and the animals in the forest. Still want to be a hermit?”

“I want to be,” Merlin trailed off before saying with a wry twist of his mouth, “wherever you are. Wherever you go. I don’t ever want to think you’re dead again. I want us to always be together, where I can – can protect you.”

“I’ll protect you right back,” Arthur said fondly.

Merlin reached down and squeezed his hand. Arthur squeezed back.

Arthur still couldn’t see his future. Not like before.

But he could see a part of it. The most important part.


End file.
